On the Enemy's Terms
by fernazab
Summary: Arthur finds out about Merlin's magic... in the worst way possible.
1. Teaser

**This is just a teaser. The prologue starts next chapter.**

**Warning: We tagged this as horror and angst for a reason. This isn't our usual, non-serious, happy-go-lucky stuff. We could also tag this as tragedy.**

**_Disclaimer: We don't own Merlin. And by the end of this you might be happy that we don't. We're about to be cruel to poor Merlin.  
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**Enjoy!_  
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This wasn't supposed to happen. Not now. Not like this. None of this should have happened.

But it did.

Agony. It tore and twisted mercilessly. There wasn't a scratch on Merlin's body. No one could see the hole thrashed into his heart. It threatened to rend him into oblivion. Merlin shook. He shook with despair, anguish, and horror. He had only himself to blame. This was a damage that could never be repaired. What had he done?

He had never expected this. Any of it. Merlin knew this day would come. It was inevitable. But he never expected to feel like this when it did. Merlin had often imagined what he would do when Arthur discovered the truth. The warlock had been almost certain what to do if Arthur got violent. Merlin would have disarmed the prince and made him slip a bit. Merlin would have made it impossible for the warrior to attack. And Merlin would have explained everything.

But Merlin would have never expected to be... subdued. He couldn't speak. He couldn't move voluntarily. He could only despair. The point of Arthur's sword was all he could see.

The damage was irreversible. No one could restore shattered glass. Merlin knew he would only cut his hands trying. Arthur would never forgive Merlin for this. Arthur never could. Merlin never could. There was nothing capable of justifying his actions.

Agony, anguish, horror, despair.

Guilt.

Arthur's cold steel looked almost welcome.

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	2. Prologue

**It's here! Sorry it took so long. Thank you to everyone who gave us feedback! _It made us happy:)_  
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**IMPORTANT: This is not our perspective. This is the POV of a VERY sick and twisted person.**

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He was a traitor. He manipulated and lied. His heart was black and murderous. Merlin was the lowest filth that walked the earth.

He was the only "man" that disgusted Morgana more than Uther did.

To think that she had once seen Merlin as bumbling, sweet, loyal, and kind. She had even considered him a friend. She, along with everyone else, had believed his clever facade. A death by hemlock. Only that had been able to open Morgana's eyes to reality. Before then she would have never suspected Merlin's heart of being poisoned.

But that poison was more penetrating and lethal than Morgana had afore thought. She had known Merlin was viper ever since he tried to murder her. Oh, but the knowledge she had now. The viper in her previous understanding was now an innocuous mouse. Her new information turned the prince's manservant into a vile beast. No word seemed strong enough to describe that creature. He didn't just betray her. He had betrayed all of her kin.

All of his kin.

"_If I had your gifts I would harness them for good. That's what magic should be for. That's why you were born with these powers."_

Those words boiled Morgana's blood. _Good?_ What "good" was accomplished by protecting men that despised you and your kind? What did Merlin hope to gain? Did he think he could use Arthur as a puppet on the throne?

How many sorcerers have died for Merlin's sick sense of good? Morgana knew that Merlin had at least tried to murder both her and her sister. But how many others weren't so lucky? How many of _his kin_ has been willing to sacrifice? He doesn't seem to care who he hurts, betrays, or kills. As long as his own ends are served everyone else can suffer. It was probably only a matter of time before he turned on his dear friends.

In a sense, Morgana and Morgause would be doing Arthur a favor today.

Almost.

Arthur would be free of Merlin. But only momentarily. The prince wouldn't last long after dispatching his _friend_.

The plan was so perfect. At first, Morgana had objected to its complexities. Couldn't they simply kill Merlin with the element of surprise? The traitor would be dead and the prince would be vulnerable. Camelot would be on its knees next.

But Morgause was right. The chance to see Arthur run Merlin through was too delicious to miss.

Phase one of plan was taking place now. Arthur, Merlin, and two other knights were passing through the woods where the half-sisters were hidden. They would soon ride over a piece of path that was laced with magical objects. Objects that would capture something from each person.

Morgana didn't know how Morgause came to have these treasures. That was a story for another time. Morgana just knew that these tools would have no practical use at Camelot. Their power had to be reset every few minutes when directed at one person. Attacking a city full of people would futile.

A wicked smile broke Morgana's face. The first of the party rode over the trap. He was one of the knights. Wasn't his name... Lancelot? He faked nobility a few years ago. Evidently Arthur didn't mind the dishonesty.

The next victim crossed the threshold to his doom. Morgana recognized him. But, frankly, she didn't know or care who he was. He'd be dead soon anyway. Or maybe he could carry the news of the prince's death back to Camelot.

Arthur crossed.

But Merlin suddenly jerked his horse to a halt. Ignoring the questioning from his companions, Merlin led his horse off the path and around the trap.

Morgana's smile faded. The sight _was_ comical. Merlin looked like an idiot. Arthur loudly questioned his manservant's soundness of mind. The unnamed knight laughed and joked heartily. And Lancelot looked terrified. However, it wasn't quite what Morgana had wanted.

It was a pity. She didn't _need_ to capture anything from Merlin. She just wanted to have a little fun before the creature got what it deserved.

The band of victims eventually rode out of sight. Morgana and Morgause slipped out of hiding and onto the path. They unearthed four stones. One was clear. The other three each carried an image of a man.

Arthur. Lancelot. And the other knight.

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**Morgause is alive for purposes of the story. (Besides, nobody knows if she's alive or dead.) We figured that if she survived she either saw Merlin or figured it out. If not, then Morgana had a dream of Merlin using magic. Either way, those details are irrelevant to this fic.**

**Bad news: we probably won't be posting anything for at least a week. My free time level will drop from minimal to zero. I have an extra heavy load of school and a Tae Kwon Do tournament. _And believe me when I say you don't want me taking over the editing. It's not that I can't but that I won't. Why? Because I'm far too excitable. Me+editing=recipe for disaster. _It's true. I don't let her do it. She's got an amazing font of ideas, but... I sometimes wonder if she thinks proofreading is for the birds.  
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	3. A Serious Mistake

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**A day later than we had hoped... but, hey, it still got put up!**

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Distant screams and moans tore at Arthur, Merlin, Lancelot and Gwaine's ears. The four men charged to the edge of the forest. Before them lay a ravaged town. The flames cackled manically at the pain it inflicted. Suddenly, a home crumbled and crashed, resounding the fire's careless laughter.

The group rushed down the hill and into the village. Even from a distance it looked as though the survivors had already fled. They hadn't gotten far. Many people were just barely reaching the outskirts of the surrounding woods. But answers on what had happened could wait. Merlin and the knights began to search the town for any stragglers.

Abruptly, Merlin lurched to a stop. He felt a sudden rush of magic. His panic froze his feet in place. Merlin flung his head around, desperately trying to find the source of the magic. In horror he realized that all three of his companions had vanished.

"Arthur!" Merlin yelled.

The only reply the warlock received was the mocking cackle of burning homes.

"Lancelot! Gwaine!" Merlin called.

No reply.

Cold terror flooded through Merlin. He ran. He frantically sought out anyone or anything that could explain what happened. He occasionally stopped and searched for any sign of life. There was none. Only an acrid stench.

Each stop and go was unmethodical and desperate. Only empty streets. Only laughing fire. Only rubble.

But he kept moving. He had to keep moving. He couldn't stop to despair. There wasn't time. They were here. Merlin would find them. He would save them if need be. He had to find them.

Suddenly, Merlin saw hope. There was a woman still in the town. He raced toward her. She might know what happened. She might be able to help. She might—

Merlin froze to a halt again. She might have created this nightmare.

The woman wore a red and silver dress. Her blonde curls hung loose at her back. And her face was one that Merlin could never forget. Morgause.

Just then, Merlin's shoulder involuntarily dropped slightly. He jerked in shock. What was that? He had felt _nothing_ touch him. And the movement in his shoulder wasn't a twitch. It was as though an invisible and touchless hand had seized him.

He didn't have time to wonder further though. The witch saw him. Immediately she raised her hand and opened her mouth to cast a spell.

Merlin had to act now or all was lost.

A few words. A flash of gold eyes. Morgause was flung against one of the ruined houses. It was over. She was dead. Merlin was certain of it this time.

Merlin's sigh of relief caught mid-way in his throat. He had made a terrible mistake.

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**Yes, another mean cliffhanger. It'll all come together. We promise.**

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	4. What Happened to Arthur

**Thank you to everyone who gave us reviews and feedback!**

**So, as the chapter title indicates, we're going back in time to show you what happened to Arthur, Lancelot, and Gwaine when they disappeared. We're sorry about the long wait.**

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_While Arthur, Merlin, Gwaine, and Lancelot were running through the town together..._

"Arthur!"

"What is it, Merlin?" Arthur stopped and spun around.

Merlin didn't answer. His eyes darted wildly in every direction.

"Lancelot! Gwaine!" Merlin hollered.

"We're right here, Merlin," Gwaine said.

Merlin's face drained. Suddenly, he ran.

"Merlin!" Arthur yelled. He chased after the now panicked manservant.

What was Merlin doing? He didn't seem to see Arthur, Lancelot or Gwaine. Nor did he seem to hear them. How was that possible? They had been in his plain sight! They were now shouting at him as they chased him. How—

Magic. There could be no other answer. People don't spontaneously lose both sight and hearing for no reason. Even if someone could, Merlin didn't look blind. He bolted between and around the burning homes. Occasionally, he would stop and search frantically. Then he would tear through the streets again.

Abruptly, Merlin froze in place. He stared transfixedly at a woman. She wore long blonde hair and a torn brown dress. She limped. Her attitude was of someone determinedly looking for something. She was probably looking for someone.

But the woman didn't interest Arthur. He ran in front of Merlin. The prince grabbed his manservant's shoulder. Arthur wanted to shake Merlin to his senses as if that would somehow free him of whatever enchantment this was.

Merlin jumped, thrusting his arm away. For a moment his terrified eyes stared straight through Arthur. Then, those eyes snapped their attention back to the limping woman.

Without warning Merlin's arm shot up. The manservant shouted something in an alien tongue. His eyes glinted gold. In that second the woman screamed as an invisible force threw her. She was bashed against one of the destroyed houses. A spray of blood erupted.

Arthur's eyes swung back toward to Merlin. The prince couldn't think past his shock. That couldn't have happened. Something on Merlin's face would betray the truth of the situation.

For a sickening moment relief flooded Merlin's face. But it was only for a moment before that relief morphed into pure horror.

"NO!" Merlin screamed.

Arthur couldn't find the strength to chase after Merlin this time. Merlin couldn't be a sorcerer. He was a good man. That stupid, bumbling servant wasn't capable of the evils of sorcery. He wasn't a sorcerer. That wasn't possible.

But the evidence said otherwise. Arthur just saw proof that his manservant, someone the prince had thought to be a good man, was a sorcerer. Merlin was a sorcerer and he had just murdered an innocent woman.

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	5. Despair

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**WARNING: Slightly suicidal thoughts in this chapter.**

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"Merlin!" Gwaine shouted after the retreating sorcerer.

Sorcerer. Murderer. No two words could be more incongruous with Merlin. Why? How? Merlin was a good man. Or so Arthur had thought.

The prince strode forward purposefully. He knew what he had to do. His grip tightened around the hilt of his sword. It was all he could do to fight the bile in his throat. After striding a few steps Arthur broke into a run. He had to catch up with Merlin. Arthur had a duty.

But Merlin couldn't, he wouldn't do anything like this. Why had Merlin dabbled in magic? He knew it was evil. Even now Arthur could see that Merlin knew it. Merlin knew what he had done was wrong, evil. Why? Why had Merlin done it?

Arthur had been warned his whole life of magic's evil. Now he understood what his father meant by magic corrupting the soul.

_Merlin, what have you done?_

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Merlin ran. He paused beside a ruined house. The house he had turned into a weapon. Nothing could be done. The woman was dead. He couldn't look any longer. Merlin fled. What had he done? Who was she? Who had she left behind? Merlin finally sunk to his knees several paces into the woods.

"NO!"

The forest floor shook with his despair. Merlin felt the urge to scream again. To release more magic. He fought to control himself. He stared at the nearest tree. The broken warlock focused all his grief, his pain, his despair, his guilt at it. The wood exploded in every direction.

Merlin sobbed. He had never felt so guilty in his life. Never. Not even when he had accidentally traded his mother's life. She had lived. The damage had been undone. This could not be undone. Merlin shook in grief. The guilt. The awful guilt. When he released the dragon he hadn't felt this guilty. He wasn't responsible for the dragon's actions. That fact was a hollow comfort at the time. Merlin now realized that.

Suddenly, Merlin heard Arthur's voice call his name. Merlin hadn't noticed the prince's approach. It wouldn't have mattered he had. The warlock was too consumed with pain to care. Merlin felt Arthur's sword press against the back of his neck.

"Merlin," Arthur said again.

Merlin felt angry with the prat. Why hadn't he been run him through yet? What did the prince hope to accomplish by delay? Didn't he have enough proof that Merlin was a monster? Monster. Gaius once told the young warlock to "never think that" he was a monster. Gaius? Was Arthur planning on taking his servant back to face "trial"? _Please no, _Merlin thought. He didn't want to see the disappointment and sorrow in Gaius's eyes. Maybe Arthur could be persuaded to just run Merlin through, then lie about what happened. Gaius didn't need to know what had happened today. He didn't deserve that pain.

Merlin turned his head toward the blade. It frightened him. He wasn't afraid of the danger it posed. No, it looked... friendly to him. That terrified Merlin. He turned away.

Arthur pulled his sword back slightly. Keeping his sword carefully aimed at Merlin, he walked around to the front of his servant. Merlin vaguely noticed Gwaine and Lancelot. Arthur demandingly tapped the flat of the blade against the underside of Merlin's chin. Arthur was trying to force Merlin to look him in the eye. Why? Why wouldn't Arthur kill the warlock already?

"_Merlin._" It was only then that Merlin noticed how much pain resounded in the prince's voice. "Why!"

How Merlin wished he had an answer. He couldn't justify what he had done. He couldn't look Arthur in the face. Merlin wasn't sure he could look anyone in the face again. _Not that it matters, _Merlin thought morbidly as he stared at the cold steel pressing against his chin. At any moment Arthur would run his manservant through. It was better than the alternative. It would all be over.

Merlin shook his head, lips tightening in agony. He waited for Arthur to thrust the sword into his chest. How had this happened? Merlin had always known that Arthur would find out about his servant's powers. That was inevitable. The warlock had made plans for such an event. Merlin knew that there was a chance that he would not be able to choose when or how Arthur found out. Merlin had prepared for that too. He had taken to telling the truth and pressing it like a desperate lie. It was a form of deceit, but the warlock had figured matters would go more smoothly if he could remove the "you lied to me" card from Arthur's hand. Merlin could honestly say that he had avoided lying. Why had events taken such an ugly turn? This shouldn't have happened. An innocent woman was dead. That fact alone made the question of Merlin's honesty irrelevant.

He continued to stare at Arthur's sword. Merlin would have laughed if had been told that morning that he would be staring complacently at a sword being pointed at his throat. He remembered thinking about what he would do if Arthur got violent upon discovering his servant's magic. Under other circumstances, Arthur would be disarmed by now. But Merlin had no will to fight. He had no will to live. He had no will to die. He was simply a husk of his former self. All that was left was pain, agony, despair, and guilt.

"Answer me, Merlin," Arthur commanded, voice shaking.

Merlin shook his head. A fresh wave of guilty tears poured down his face. His action had been unforgivable. There was no point in answering.

"How long have you been practicing magic?"

A humorless laugh escaped Merlin's lips. Could Arthur have asked a more irrelevant question? Despite this, Merlin felt his lips move. He could hear a completely incoherent explanation fill the air. He jumped between random times where he had used magic. None of it made sense. Why was he even trying to explain about the events that he had been dying to tell Arthur for so long? It was so inappropriate. He had just murdered someone. He wouldn't admit it to himself, but Merlin still wanted forgiveness. He was still human. The monstrous act hadn't taken that away. But it didn't matter how much Merlin wanted forgiveness. Merlin knew that he could never be forgiven. And worse, Merlin would never be able to forgive himself.

Arthur lifted his sword slightly, nudging Merlin's chin. "Answer. The. Question," Arthur demanded.

"What does it matter?" Merlin replied hollowly. "The end result is the same."

"Merlin, please," Arthur struggled to keep his voice authoritative, "Maybe there is a way to prevent you from using magic. So—So it won't make you..." Arthur's voice trailed off.

Merlin grunted. He was almost amused. Did Arthur really think that? The prince was more of an idiot than Merlin had realized. Arthur would become disillusioned one way or another.

"I was using magic before I could talk," Merlin said disinterestedly.

The sorcerer stared at the light shimmering off the blade that could be plunged into him at any moment. He felt a faint wish to care. He almost cared, but in the wrong way. The oppressive cloud of guilt made certain of that. Merlin faintly noticed that the blade was shaking. But he was too busy struggling with a corner of his mind. It told him that it was wrong to consider how Arthur would kill him as he would ponder what Gaius intended on feeding him.

"No," Arthur whispered. Then his voice rose, "No! That isn't possible!" He took a deep breath. "You... You aren't—aren't—"

Merlin found himself fighting an urge to look the prince in the eyes. What on earth was going through that man's mind? Surely he wasn't having that much trouble processing the events. The prince was pointing a sword at his manservant's throat after all.

"Not what Arthur?" Merlin croaked miserably. "A sorcerer? That's exactly what I am. I think that has already been established."

"Evil..." Arthur's voice was defeated and hurt.

Without knowing why Merlin gave another hollow laugh. Evil? Strange, his thoughts hadn't called him that directly. But that's what a murderer was, wasn't it? The worst form of evil. Why was Arthur contradicting the fact that Merlin must be evil? Merlin had murdered someone, hadn't he? Thus, he must be evil. He didn't mean to. _I didn't mean to,_ Merlin's thoughts repeated numbly. Why did he do it? As his mind reeled over the event Merlin felt his eyes widen. A realization hit him with a sickening force. He had been set up to murder that woman. _Kill,_ a small voice corrected. _You didn't murder her, _the voice tried to tell him. The rest of his mind wasn't willing to accept innocence. He condemned himself for not seeing through the ruse. His list of why he should have known quickly became lengthy and irrational. The worst part of it was that whoever had done this was probably out to kill Arthur...

Merlin had to warn his friends and protect them from the person who had done this. Merlin began to straighten.

"I was set up!" Despite his yelling, Merlin sounded strangely detached. He began to babble about the danger they were in. He tried to stand.

Merlin felt a sharp pain in his chest as Arthur kicked him, knocking him to ground.

"Stay there!" Arthur snarled.

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**We're not sure, but we might have told someone that we weren't planning another cliffy. Sorry. It just... seemed appropriate and worked out that way.**

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	6. Careful What You Say

**We're sorry! We haven't been home consistently. We went on trips. Then, when we got home, our sister had major surgery. We've been living at her house because she can't pick up her baby. Doctor has forbidden her from cleaning or any other form of physical labor. _And then add a little bit of writer's block to this mix and you can understand why we haven't been updating._**

**Anyway, we thought we'd start out with a little bit of Gwaine's perspective on this.**

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Maybe... Maybe they had come across some ale. He was drunk enough to not even remember that. Yes, and then all this would be a drunken dream. A twisted delusion.

If only that were true.

Yes, true, Gwaine did always want to be drunk. It felt so good that he honestly couldn't call it a vice. Vices were bad. Being drunk wasn't; he would know. Therefore, it wasn't a vice. Also, something bad, like a vice, wouldn't be able to resolve this whole issue. Ah, the virtues of drinking.

However, the knight was painfully aware of his soberness. Clarity of thought was always oppressive. But never before had it been quite _this _oppressive.

First off, Gwaine had never had much of a relationship with magic. To him, it was that mysterious entity that Camelot hated and that occasionally caused trouble. So, under normal circumstances, Merlin being a sorcerer wouldn't bother him. Merlin was a great friend. And there were a few people who needed to live their lives as toads. But now, Gwaine couldn't ask Merlin to transform a particular knight back at Camelot. (And that was not because they weren't currently in Camelot. Logistics don't stop Gwaine.) It was because of what he just saw. Merlin killed someone. The woman didn't even look dangerous. Maybe Merlin knew something the rest of them didn't. Maybe he had a good reason.

But that didn't make sense!

Merlin was now a kneeling, broken man. It almost seemed as though... His actions were accidental? They didn't look accidental.

Gwaine didn't know what to say, what to think. He was accustomed to being quick to judge and quick to act. He was always sure of himself.

Could it be possible that Gwaine misjudged Merlin from the beginning? Nah, the knight was an excellent judge of character. There had to be an explanation for all this. Yes, Merlin must have his reasons.

Now, if that was true, why was Gwaine allowing Arthur to point a sword at Merlin? It couldn't be because the knight was unsure of himself. He knew he wasn't.

Suddenly, Merlin tried to stand. He babbled something about being set up. Gwaine _knew_ Merlin had to have had a reason!

Arthur kicked Merlin back to the ground.

Gwaine drew his sword halfway before stopping himself. He left his sword half-drawn, his hand prepared to finish the act in a blink. He wasn't going to kill Arthur. Not yet. First, Arthur would learn he was wrong from Merlin's lips.

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Merlin gasped in pain. He could barely believe that a moment ago he wouldn't have cared.

"Arthur," Merlin croaked, "you're in danger. We're all in danger. Whoever did—caused this has got to still be here. Listen to me."

"Why?" Arthur asked. "Why did you kill that woman?"

"I didn't mean to."

Arthur glared incredulously.

"I meant to," Merlin amended, "but I didn't know—"

"Didn't know what?" Arthur snapped.

"Arthur, let him talk," Gwaine cut in. "He might be telling the truth."

"'Telling the truth'! Telling the truth about what?" Arthur shouted. "He hasn't told us anything!"

"Sire," Lancelot spoke respectfully, "I have known for a while that Merlin is a sorcerer."

Both Arthur and Gwaine, wide-eyed, whipped around to face Lancelot. Merlin noted that the prince's sword was no longer pointing at him.

"What!" Arthur yelped. "How long have you known this?"

"It was his magic, not my skill which defeated the griffin, sire."

"You've been _lying_ to me, Merlin," Arthur whispered.

"Sire," Lancelot cut across quickly, "I would have never been able to defeat the griffin without his help. His actions have been honorable. It was due to him that the immortal army was defeated. He used a blade that was forged in a dragon's breath—"

If looks could kill, everything in Arthur's line of sight would be dead. Merlin's heart plummeted. Lancelot did not realize what the implications of his words were. Arthur, however, caught the implication immediately. Merlin was going to die.

"You consorted with the dragon," Arthur's voice dripped with malice.

"No!" Merlin lied quickly. "The sword, I found it."

"Really?" Arthur said skeptically. "Where?"

"I don't remember."

Arthur pointed his sword back at Merlin's chest. "You're lying."

Merlin saw Gwaine draw his sword. Lancelot thrust his arm out to stop his fellow knight.

"The sword is a story for another time," Merlin said.

"Merlin! Tell me where you got this sword! Or I will run you through."

"Arthur," Merlin pleaded, "we don't have time for this. If we don't move, we could all die."

"I can't trust you. How do I know this isn't all a trap? Give me one reason to trust you."

"Sire," Lancelot said, "Merlin's past actions show that he has noble intent."

"Shut up, Lancelot," Arthur lashed out.

"Princess, you have eyes and legs," Gwaine pointed out. He sounded as though he had a head cold. "Why don't you go investigate?"

Arthur gave Gwaine a hard look. "Stay here," the prince ordered, "and make sure he doesn't escape." Arthur pulled his blade away from Merlin.

"And if I don't?" Gwaine asked defiantly.

"Then I had better put Merlin out of his misery." Arthur looked at Gwaine and Lancelot in turn. "Both of you are good. But not good enough to stop me from killing..." Arthur trailed off.

Neither knight moved or made a sound. Arthur turned and began to leave.

Merlin stood and called out, "Wait! It's dangerous!"

"So far the only dangerous thing I've found is you," Arthur hissed.

Merlin was about to chase after Arthur when both Lancelot and Gwaine grabbed him. Merlin tried to shake them off.

"I don't think so, mate."

"Let go of me!" Merlin growled. Should he use magic? He couldn't just let Arthur walk to his death.

"If you follow Arthur, he will kill you," Lancelot explained.

"Arthur will die if I don't. Let go!"

"No!" Both knights shouted in unison.

Merlin could feel the prickle of someone using powerful magic in the area again. Whoever attacked Merlin's senses earlier was definitely still here. He would give the knights one last chance.

"Let go of me or else!"

"Fine," Lancelot ceded. He released Merlin's arm.

Merlin used Gwaine's surprise to escape the knight's grip. However, he barely made it five feet before everything went dark.

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"What was that for!" Gwaine shouted.

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	7. The Enemy's Terms Are Over

**Last chapter! Thank you to everyone who has been reading and reviewing. This story, in six chapters, received 62 reviews and 82 alerts. We're extremely happy about that. Thank you everyone! _You've made us feel cool :)_**

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A safe distance. Morgana understood the need for it. They couldn't risk being seen. But she would readily confess to Morgause that she wanted a better view of Merlin's demise.

The sisters were positioned near where Merlin was making his greatest mistake. No, not near it, only within view of it. Several broken down houses away. Morgana could hear the shouting before and after Merlin threw the woman, but nothing quieter.

Merlin ran to the forest. Arthur and his knights followed. Morgana sighed. Now, not only could she not hear anything, but she also could only barely see the show. Her smirk faded into a slight pout. This wouldn't do.

"Morgause, let's get closer."

Morgause caught her sister's arm. "No, sister," she whispered, "we can't risk being seen."

"I won't get caught. I'm not going _much_ closer," Morgana clarified. _Not unless I find an opportunity to, _she added mentally.

"It's too risky," Morgause maintained.

Morgana stared steadily at her sister for a moment. Then Morgana realized that she might have already missed seeing Arthur dispatch Merlin. She quickly turned her gaze back to the show. It hadn't happened yet. Good. A bad view was better than no view at all.

Morgana's relief fell as quickly as it rose. Why hadn't Arthur killed Merlin yet? Wasn't the prince just as prejudiced as his father? Morgana knew he was. So why hadn't he already disposed of the obvious _evil_ before him? Answers. Of course, Arthur would want answers. Fortunately, there remained no good excuse for Merlin. No clever lies could help him this time. Arthur's interrogation wouldn't last much longer.

Arthur kicked Merlin. Morgana didn't expect that. It pleased her though. She didn't mind if Merlin was literally kicked around first, as long as it ended with the traitor's death. A little more pain would make this more interesting. Too bad she couldn't hear anything said. That would make the show even more interesting.

More talking. Morgana was nearly ready to creep closer no matter what her sister said. She wanted a better view and, if possible, a few snatches of the conversation.

Morgana's eyes widened. No. Arthur turned his sword away from Merlin. No, no, no, no. That wasn't right.

Then, before Morgana had a chance to do anything rash, Arthur was pointing his sword at Merlin again. That was better. But what was going on!

A minute later Arthur began walking away. _Walking away!_ Morgana nearly screamed with indignation. Accepting was he? What could Merlin have possibly said to effect that! Obviously, she couldn't leave _any_ decision up to Arthur. He would make an even stupider king than Morgana had thought. She was taking matters into her own hands.

As she grabbed the stones, her wonderful tools, the knights grabbed Merlin.

"Sister, no!" Morgause hissed.

"This is our last chance. Merlin is getting away with murder."

"The imprints will fade completely any moment," Morgause tried to reason with Morgana. "If that happens while their senses are being tricked, they will see the spell break. They won't be fooled again."

Morgana saw Merlin break free of the knights' grasp. Then, Lancelot punched the sorcerer in the back of the head. The other knight yelled something and pointed a sword at Lancelot. Arthur and the other knight seemed in favor of Merlin. And Lancelot did not. No matter. Morgana didn't need to know how anyone felt on this. She knew everything necessary to end this: Merlin was unconscious, and Arthur was out of everyone's sight.

Morgana dropped the stones with the imprints of Lancelot and the other knight. She didn't need them. Changing Arthur's appearance would yield the best results. But whom should she make him look and sound like?

"Should I make Arthur appear as Cenred?" Morgana suggested.

"No," Morgause resigned herself to Morgana's improvising, "make him look like a bandit, someone who would be in the woods." Morgause's voice took a frighteningly delighted tone, "Make him appear as Jarl."

"Who?"

"Hand me the stone."

* * *

Gwaine snatched up the blade that he had dropped in order to restrain Merlin. He pointed it at Lancelot.

"What was that for!" Gwaine shouted.

Lancelot lowered his gauntlet-clad fist. "That was for his own good," he replied.

"You let him go. And then you stab him the back!"

"I wasn't going to let him get himself killed."

"That's why _I_ was holding him back."

"We wouldn't have been able to stop him. He's a sorcerer, remember?"

Gwaine glared at Lancelot for a moment longer. They wouldn't have been able to stop Merlin. But punching him in the back of the head? Surely... fine. At least Lancelot seemed to have Merlin's interest at heart more than Arthur did. Gwaine huffed in frustration and let his sword point drop to the ground.

"So," Gwaine said almost conversationally, "since you believe him too, how long so you think it'll take for princess to get killed?"

* * *

Arthur trekked a small distance from his knights and Merlin. He was searching for Merlin's murderous... trickster? And he had found a grand total of nothing. Arthur was beginning to think that he needed either more information on where to find this mysterious person or to accept that Merlin was guilty.

Now that Arthur wasn't busy threatening Merlin, he wondered if he should apologize. _Apologize?_ He didn't even have reason to believe that Merlin was innocent.

Arthur closed his eyes in frustration. His mind flitted between the dead woman, and the look of shock and horror that coated Merlin's face. Part of Arthur felt terrified at the possibility that Merlin's sorrow was an act. If it was an act, then allowing Merlin to live would lead to more deaths. On the other hand, if he killed Merlin and Merlin was innocent... Arthur didn't want to think about that. What he needed was some proof or at least some very good advice. He wouldn't bring this up to his father. All his father would do would be order Merlin's execution and give a speech about the evils of sorcery. Maybe Gwen. Gwen gave good advice. No, Arthur refused to put her in that uncomfortable position. Abruptly, Arthur wondered if Gaius knew about Merlin's magic. If so, Gaius would certainly be biased in Merlin's favor.

Arthur sighed. This decision wouldn't be easy.

Maybe whatever Merlin was saying about being set up was true. For a short period of time Merlin seemed completely unaware of Arthur or the other knights. Merlin looked _straight through_ Arthur. How was someone supposed to act that? But then, Merlin had obviously been doing some acting for a long while. He had been pretending to be loyal to Arthur and Camelot while committing treason the entire time. However, if Merlin was only pretending loyalty, why wasn't Arthur dead already? Why had a sorcerer saved the prince of Camelot's life more than once?

Arthur halted suddenly. Why wasn't his father dead? Merlin, a sorcerer, had stopped Arthur from killing the king, the king who ordered the destruction of all magic. Why?

Merlin didn't make sense! Well, he never did before, but now...

Arthur needed more information.

* * *

Arthur received a mild shock when he returned to where he had left Merlin, Lancelot, and Gwaine. Merlin was lying with his face in the dirt. Unconscious.

"What happened?" Arthur asked.

Lancelot didn't seem to recognize him. And Gwaine looked as though he had just laid eyes on the worst human being in existence.

* * *

Merlin's head hurt. Why did his head hurt?

He opened his eyes. He was on the ground. He was fairly certain that was a tree that he was seeing. But he wasn't quite sure. His brain felt fuzzy.

He heard someone speak, "You know this man?" Merlin recognized that voice. Who was it?

"You both know me, you idiots." Arthur. Merlin knew that voice. It was Arthur.

Merlin lifted his head slightly. He could now see Arthur coming toward him. Merlin tried to push himself up. His head throbbed and spun. Before he got knocked out he was going to help Arthur. Arthur was in trouble. Or was he? He was right there. At least Merlin thought he was. Merlin was so dizzy, it was hard to tell.

"I'm not fighting in your arena again." That was Gwaine this time. Where was Gwaine?

"What is wrong with you? What do tournaments have to do with any of this? Gwaine be reasonable," Arthur said.

"Not if I kill you first," Gwaine replied.

Kill? Kill who? Was someone else here? Merlin finally lifted himself onto his hands and knees. He closed his eyes, trying to dispel the vertigo. He could hear movement. Was that the sound of swords clashing? Merlin opened his eyes again. Everything was a bit clearer.

Arthur and Gwaine were fighting. Something told Merlin that this wasn't just a friendly competition. They were trying to kill each other. Merlin tried to stand. Somebody grabbed his arm. Merlin looked behind himself. It was Lancelot.

"Where's the rest of your friends? Not here to help?" Gwaine sneered.

"What has gotten into you?" Arthur shoved Gwaine away.

Merlin struggled to rush toward his friends. "No," he said. "No, don't kill each other. Arthur! Gwaine! Stop!"

Somewhere among the clashing of swords Gwaine found the opportunity to shout, "How hard did you hit him?"

Merlin kept trying to stand. Each time, Lancelot pushed him back down. Merlin had to stop the fighting. Should he use magic? How would he do it without being caught? Wait. _Arthur already knows._ There was nothing to hide.

Merlin's eyes flashed gold. A shock wave thrust the two warriors to the ground.

Arthur and Gwaine immediately lept back to their feet, readying their swords once more.

"Arthur!" Gwaine exclaimed. He reflexively lowered his sword.

"Yes!" Arthur barked. "What the h— were you doing!"

For once in his life, Gwaine looked at a loss for words.

Arthur spoke (rather, shouted) again, "Well! Was that some brilliant plan of yours? Attack Merlin and me? And then what? Run off with all the supplies?"

"That's not fair," Gwaine protested. "I didn't knock out Merlin. Lancelot did."

Arthur raised his eyebrows at Lancelot expectantly. The knight waved his hand, indicating that he'd explain later. Normally, that wouldn't have been enough for Arthur. He would have demanded an explanation immediately. However, this time, there was another explanation he wanted more.

"But you _did_ try to kill me," Arthur pressed.

"You didn't look like yourself," Gwaine replied.

Merlin, still being held in the kneeling position by Lancelot, stiffened. Could it have happened again?

"So, you were trying to kill me because of a trick of the light? And not because you don't want to participate in tournaments?"

"Did he look like Morgause?" Merlin interjected.

A wry smile formed on Gwaine's face. "Did he look like a woman? No. He..." Gwaine hesitated. "I could've sworn you were Jarl."

"Jarl!" Arthur sounded taken aback. "I've had better days, but I don't look that bad."

"It's true, sire," Lancelot said. "Though I don't know this Jarl, I did believe you were a ruffian."

Arthur's brow furrowed. He looked as though he was deeply considering something. It was a moment before he spoke.

"Merlin," he said. "That woman. Did she look like Morgause?"

Merlin nodded.

Arthur paled. He exchanged glances with the knights.

Then, Arthur sheathed his sword. He assumed his usual air of authority, "We're leaving. Now. Lancelot, stop pushing Merlin into the dirt. And you," Arthur pointed at Merlin. "_You_ still have a lot to explain. I need some _very_ good reasons not to punish you for treason."

* * *

**Yes, it's pretty open ended. We're not sure how we feel about it. But if we continue this, it will be posted as a sequel. But there are no plans for a sequel in the immediate future.**

**The poll is closed! The winner is... *drumroll*... "I Feel Your Pain"!**

**Again, you guys are awesome! Please review!**


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